


Playground

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Ball Licking, Hand Jobs, Loud Sex, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout and Demoman decide to spend a day just making love, and Scout gives Demo full permission to do what he wants.  Turns out Demo wants to turn Scout into a whimpering puddle on the bed through the skillful application of his tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sillyscrunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sillyscrunchy).



"Ffff-- oh God, oh holy shit, I-- FUCK," Scout whined, his cheek grinding into the bed. He clawed at the edge, gripping the fitted sheet tightly between his fingers, tugging it up and away from the mattress as his arms jerked and shook. His whole body quaked, every nerve alight with tiny fires, prickling electric heat across his flesh, every tiny hair standing on end. Behind him, Demoman's muttonchops brushed the smooth skin of his ass as his face pressed between toned cheeks, tongue lapping in slow, torturous circles around the younger man's hole.

Warm lips pressed to spit-slicked skin, hot and sensitive. They followed the line of Scout's cleft up to his iliac crest, kissing short, loud smooches on their way until they parted, allowing that demon tongue to snake back out and draw a line back down, to press in against his entrance and push itself inside. A deep, warbling howl left Scout's throat, hoarse and breathy from the decadent torment he was enduring.

Scout had said to do whatever he wanted. He'd told his lover to go wild. They had all day, and Demoman had a free ticket to any and all forms of perversion he could enact upon the slim, younger man he called his lover. He had elected to make every effort to reduce Scout to a whimpering puddle on the bed, and thus far, was succeeding handily.

It hadn't taken much, truthfully. A short tussle and battle for dominance left Scout exactly where he wanted to be, where he loved to be: pinned beneath the larger man, red-faced and hard, completely under his power. He'd never let him just have it. He had some pride, after all. But in the end, the older man would win out, and large, rough hands would trace the slim contours of his body, relishing the lithe muscles that moved beneath peachy-tanned skin, over freckled shoulders and along strong, long legs. Lips would follow, then the press of body to body, and hungry, needful touches.

This time, Scout had let him win far sooner, had made him waste less energy, and when conquered, gave himself up, begging for Demoman to do as he wished, to make his body a playground for the handsome bomber. Demoman happily complied.

It hadn't been long before Scout found himself on his hands and knees, bent over in front of his lover, presenting his most private of parts for the older man's inspection. Fingers had rubbed gently at him, rough hands squeezing at soft cheeks, spreading him open. When that hot tongue had made contact, had begun to lap at him, he began to fray immediately.

Mewling, desperate and shuddering, Scout buried his face in the sheets, trying to muffle the rising volume of his needful whines. He felt a smile against his skin, then Demoman's tongue slip inside of him again, one hand gripping his ass while the other slipped down to roll his balls gently in one palm. His breath hitched in his throat, followed by the cry that had gotten stuck on its way out, pouring into the blankets as his lover redoubled his efforts. He was trying to make him howl, trying to make him scream, and he was doing a damned good job of it.

Demoman laughed softly as he slipped back out, kissing down his lover's taint to mouth at his balls, drawing one half-into his mouth to lave his tongue over it and earn another whimper, giving Scout's over-sensitive hole a moment's rest.

He was gorgeous like this, red-faced, a blush spreading down his shoulders, his legs quaking and quivering as he barely supported himself, cock brushing the bed and leaving a wet spot on the sheet. His toes tried to dig into the mattress, to find purchase, but his knees wobbled and slipped further apart as he panted and wailed under Demoman's assault.

"Jesus Christ," Scout gasped as the bomber returned to his task, licking a line back up and pressing flat-tongued laps against his hole. He was rewarded with a happy hum against sensitive skin in reply, and that beautiful, slick, strong organ questing inward again, breaching his willing entrance to taste him intimately.

His shoulders bulged as he clenched his fists, shivers running up and down his back and making his breaths rattle out of him in staggered hisses, muffled though they were by his face's return to the blankets bunched in front of it. They would hear. The whole base would hear, they would know just how much and how good of sex they were having. Though he wanted to avoid the hassle of the team's joking and grousing, his chest fluttered at the thought of everyone knowing just how good he felt, how good Demoman was making him feel, hearing his wails of ecstasy and despairing in envy.

And Demoman knew. He knew, and he wanted it. "How's it feel, boyo?" he asked, lips pressed against him, moving softly and letting the low tones of his voice hum through his skin.

"Fffff-- fuck," Scout gasped, gripping the sheets tight. He wanted to touch himself, but he didn't; he wouldn't. He was Demoman's to play with.

"Aye? Let me hear ye, then," the Scot purred, flicking his tongue over Scout's hole and listening to the whimper that answered him.

"God!" Just like that, he was back on him, slipping his tongue deep into Scout and making him buck and shudder, gripping his hips tightly and dragging him back and forth in short movements, fucking him with his tongue. It was weird, but intense, the motion alone enough to make Scout's gut twist up tight. His whines came high-pitched, puffing out of his nose as his jaw clenched tight, nearly drowned out by the loud slurps of the man behind him. "I'm gonna--"

"Good," Demoman hummed, slipping one hand under Scout to tug at his cock, painfully hard and so, so neglected. It didn't take much more, his tongue buried as deep as it could go and a few strokes, and Scout bucked into his hand, keening and yowling with all his lungs could give as he came.

He shook with the throb of his release, small hitches of his body with each spurt, until his orgasm died out and left him useless. As his lover's tongue left him, he collapsed in a heap, atop Demoman's hand, and in the puddle of his own semen on the soiled sheets. Dimly, he heard the Scot chuckling fondly behind him, and didn't particularly care.

Demoman rolled Scout over, out of the puddle, and onto his back, looking down at the exhausted youth with a fond smile. His lips were puffy with use and his jaw ached, but the complete ruin on Scout's face, the unfocused eyes and blush that covered his cheeks and nose, the heaving chest and belly and boneless limbs were entirely worth the effort. "You're beautiful like this," he murmured, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Scout sighed contentedly, a goofy grin across his buck teeth. He canted his chin up to catch his lover's lips as he went to retreat, giving him a chaste peck and receiving one in return. "You do good work."

"It's too bad, though," Demoman shrugged, a smirk pulling at his mouth. "I usually like havin' a bit 'o fight in ye when I shag ye."

When a confused look met him, the bomber reached for the night stand, for the bottle of lube they kept there, and shook it in front of Scout's face. "Ye've had yer turn, lad. Time for me tae come tae play."


End file.
